Mahon’s hips jerk up at the contact. The demanding movement elicits a responding clench of my inner muscles, and I find I can’t tantalize him anymore. Not when I want him as much as he wants me. Maybe more.
Lifting my hips, I stare into his lust-hazed gaze. “Hold yourself straight for me.”
The shifter lets out a strangled noise in the back of his throat as I find his cock with my core and press down slow, taking him inch by inch, fully appreciating how many of those inches there are. When I’m settled, his balls cradled against the cleft of my ass, everything in the world is perfection. And yet I suspect this will only get better.
I draw Mahon’s warm, rough palms to my breasts, wanting the heat of him to drag against my sensitive nipples. He cups and strokes. Pinches the peaks and licks his lips as his eyes track the action. When I begin to move, the rise and fall are slow. Still, his legs twitch and then thrash, as if I’m torturing him with pleasure.
The same brain-melting ecstasy that threatens me at the stretch of him inside my body.
My knees dig into the dead leaves and dirt beside his hips. My wings unfurl to their full expanse, pulling the muscles of my shoulders in a glorious stretch. Moonlight filters through the membrane, casting a sapphire glow onto Mahon’s pale skin.
This experience seems to have broken his ability to weave his deliciously crude sex talk.
Which means I’ll have to take over.
I lean forward, shifting where his cock caresses in the best way. My palms hit his shoulders with a smack, and then I’m digging my claws in just to the point before they might pierceskin. Capturing his attention with my cloudy stare, I make sure Mahon is paying attention.
“You’re my bear.” I slam down hard, driving him into the ground like he wanted.
Mahon moans, low and lovely, so I repeat the motion. This earns me an animalistic grunt. More follow as I fuck him hard.
Then, I tear my heart open for him.
“I’m your monster.”
Mahon’s expression slackens in surprise, morphing quickly into ecstasy as I don’t let up with my thrusts. And something must have revitalized his vocal cords because the shifter’s groans bring dirty, seductive words with them.
“You’re my gorgeous, incomparable monster,” he rasps. “The most amazing being I’ve ever known. You are everything that is beautiful in this world. I always want you. Cannot stop thinking about you. Not that I’ve tried. Gods, I need you, Satine. Be mine.” He pants as his thighs give a telling clench beneath me. A thick finger leaves off teasing my nipple and descends to my clit, stroking in steady, unrelenting circles. “Be my monster.” Mahon heaves his hips off the ground, driving into me, even as I sink as deep as I can onto him. “Be my mate.”
I don’t know if the skill of his touch or the emotion in his words claims my orgasm. All I’m aware of is my muscles tightening and releasing in tandem, drawing me to a height of pleasure that should only be available to the divine.
From the roar Mahon releases, I expect he’s going through something similar.
After a time, I can finally focus my thoughts enough to realize I’m draped across my bear’s chest, listening to the easing pound of his heart.
“Be my mate.”
At first, I think I’m remembering the statement, but then I realize Mahon repeated himself. Hope and fear battle in my heart.
Pressing myself upright, I meet Mahon’s searching gaze. “How can you already know you want to mate me? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
His hands cup my shoulders and then stroke down my scaled arms to my elbows before repeating the motion, as if to soothe a skittish creature. Which is maybe necessary.
“I fell in love with you when I saw Frankenstein’s monster getting his rocks off in your front yard.”
I push myself higher, looming over him. But I don’t separate myself enough for his soft cock to slide out of me. Not yet. “You hadn’t even met me at that point.”
“You can learn a lot about a person from their art. Like how they’re odd.” He chuckles at my frown. “And how they’re clever. And creative. And funny. And have a wonderfully dirty mind.” Mahon reaches up, placing his finger on the barely existent ridge between my nose slits, and traces a track up and over my scaled skull. Mapping the profile of my face. “How could I not fall in love with you?”
While I struggle to accept his claims, Mahon sits up abruptly, keeping me pressed to his torso by bending his knees. His massive hands cradle my face, thumbs brushing over sharp cheekbones.
“I know I’m a lot of talk and fur and not much else. But I promise you, Satine, I will work hard to become the best shifter I can be. Someone you’ll be proud to call your bear. Officially. One day.”
The desperation in his normally easy, kind eyes erases all my own doubts, and I become the unyielding, unquestioning force in our pair.
Careful of my claws, I stroke my fingers through his sweat-dampened ginger strands, shivering in delight at the silky touch against my webbing.
“Silly bear,” I murmur. “Didn’t you read the shirt? You’re already mine. And I want all of Folk Haven to know it.”
